


Bad Boys

by twinsarein



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 01:22:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3509918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinsarein/pseuds/twinsarein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark rescues Lex.  Kind of.  At least from a grease stain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Boys

**Author's Note:**

> Another one from 2009 I never posted, here.

Lex felt the tire go. One moment he was bumping along the so-called shortcut he’d been assured would cut twenty minutes off his trip, and the next, his car was pulling to the right and not acting like the smoothly running machine Lex knew it was. He pulled over to the side of the road, such as it was, and put his head on the steering wheel for a few seconds. This had already been a long assed day, beginning with a lecture, via a phone call, from his father. He really didn’t need this right now. That’s the last time he’d take an alternate route suggested by Nell.

At first it had been wonderful; no other traffic, no houses, he’d really been able to race along, but then the asphalt had run out. Without warning. He’d been happily coasting along and then suddenly he was reduced to dirt and pot holes. Whatever. Lex debated with himself. He should probably call his mechanic; the man would come right out and fix the tire quickly. But this would be a really good opportunity to see Clark.

In the end, it really wasn’t much of a debate. Lex flipped open his phone and started dialing the Kents' home number. Then, he noticed he had no bars. He stared at his phone in disbelief. No bars…what the hell was that all about? He threw his phone as hard as he could, but since the car wasn’t a convertible, the phone just bounced off the door and clattered to the floor. It was a good thing too. The last thing he needed was some yokel to find his private phone with a full contact list. He certainly didn’t want to go traipsing through the Kansas underbrush for it either.

Lex huffed out an irritable sigh and opened his car door. He’d have to change the tire himself. How hard could it be? People without even a high school education did it all the time. He had his degrees, his IQ was genius level. He knew he could figure this out.

Ten minutes later he managed to finally find the spare and the jack. He'd known they had to be around there somewhere. Who would have guessed they were in a compartment under the matt in the trunk? What was the point of hiding them under there?

He was already sweaty from the high humidity, although the day itself was very overcast so he didn’t have to worry about sunstroke too, and lifting the tire out had left a small streak of black on his lavender silk shirt. It was probably too late to save it, but he decided to strip it off anyway, just in case.

Thirty minutes later he’d managed to loosen two bolts and bend the fender, when the recalcitrant jack had slipped. It was at that point he’d started yelling about piss poor foreign engineering, backwards towns that couldn’t tar their roads, his father for sending him to the middle of nowhere, and phones that were stupid enough not to get service when he needed it. He tried to kick his car into submission, but just wound up hurting his foot. After hopping around for a few minutes, he finally started to settle down.

He was no closer to getting his tire fixed than he was when it had blown, and now he was sweaty, dirty, and tired. In addition, his foot was sore, he couldn’t call anyone, and he was miles from the nearest main road. The universal appeal for help from a motorist in trouble was a raised hood, so Lex decided to do that next. With the down-to-earth people around here, someone would undoubtedly stop when they saw the hood up, as long as he wasn’t in the picture. In spite of all he’d tried to do for this town, he was still not too popular around here.

Lex figured he’d sit in the Porsche for a while to cool off and rest. If no cars stopped, then he’d start walking and flag someone down on the main road. Before he could step away from the hood, however, he heard the unmistakable sound of a vehicle laboring along the road. He cursed under his breath. He refused to flag the vehicle down. It would be undignified, and if the driver was someone who hated him, then he refused to give that person the satisfaction of knowing they had left the powerful Lex Luthor stranded. So he bent over the engine of the car and pretended to know what he was looking for, just before the other vehicle came into sight.

Unexpectedly enough, he heard it coast to a stop behind him. He stayed bent over. He wanted whomever it was to be a little closer before he stood up, revealing his identity.

“Hey, Lex. Do you need any help?”

Lex was so surprised he stood up abruptly. Unfortunately, a piece of the engine came with him. He looked down at the alien looking thing in his hand and then up at Clark. He quickly lowered his hand and moved it behind his back. “Clark?! How did you know it was me, and what are you doing on this road?”

Clark’s question had sounded a little hoarse and Lex looked at him in concern. Maybe he was getting a cold. Lex looked at his friend closely and noticed that he seemed somewhat flushed. Lex started to think of doctors and specialists he could call in. His friend should get nothing but the best. Lex looked up at Clark again, and realized he was talking.

“Um..get real, Lex. You uh…you’re the only one I know around here that could ah…could afford to own a Porsche Boxster. And I was um…” Lex could practically hear Clark swallow. He wasn't sure what was wrong with his friend. What was with the hesitating speech? He seemed nervous, or actually more like he was…no, that couldn’t be it. Clark was…oh right, still talking. “…um, I was just coming back from deliveries. This road makes a uh…a great shortcut.”

Lex hadn’t realized how close Clark was getting at first. Not until it was too late to stop him. Now he was trapped from behind by his car, and in front by six-foot plus of very broad farmboy. Lex craned his neck to look at his friend. He didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t back up for anyone.

“Clark, is something wrong? You don’t usually stammer this much unless Lana’s around.” He tried to catch the young man’s eyes, but couldn’t seem to do it. Clark’s gaze appeared to be focused down a little.

Before he could glance down at himself, though, he saw Clark pop his thumb into his mouth. The sight completely diverted Lex’s attention. When the thumb was released it was glistening with saliva. Lex felt his cock stirring in his pants at the short show. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve such a treat, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Nothing’s wrong, Lex. You just have…you…here, let me.”

Before Lex could respond, Clark’s wet thumb was rubbing at a spot just under his right nipple. A moan he couldn’t swallow fast enough escaped past his lips, and Clark’s head shot up to his face, finally. The jerk as he did, slid his thumb over the nub of flesh that had stood up for attention at his first touch.

“Clark…” Lex stopped to clear his throat. “Clark, what are you doing?” He reached up to grasp Clark’s wrist and heard the engine part he’d been holding clatter back down into the engine. He glanced down quickly to see where it landed, since he had the feeling he’d need it later. He spied it wedged down…shit, how the hell were they going to be able to reach that?

Clark’s wrist started moving again, and Lex decided that he really didn’t need to be thinking about his car right now. So, he was holding Clark’s wrist, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to exert any force into stopping his hand. He wound up just holding on as Clark continued to rub over his nipple. He stared into eyes whose pupils were as dilated as he knew his own to be.

“You’re so sexy, Lex. I’ve never seen this much of your skin, and you look so good. Except for the dirt. You’re never dirty, Lex. I want to get it off, so I can see even more of your skin.”

Lex remembered the dirt and grease he’d gotten on himself earlier, and suddenly he was very grateful for flat tires and cell phones that didn’t get a signal. Clark was acting like he was in a bit of a trance, and Lex was going to follow that path if he didn’t get him to stop soon. Clark’s diligence on that one spot had gotten Lex harder than he remembered being in a long time, but he was going to go crazy from the lack of stimulation elsewhere.

“Clark? Clark!” He finally tightened his grip on his friend’s wrist. It didn’t slow Clark down much, but that combined with his voice seemed to bring him out of his focus on Lex’s skin a little. Clark’s tongue came out to wet his lips and Lex watched its path avidly. Before Clark could speak, though, Lex raised his free hand and traced those wet lips with a finger. Clark’s hitched breath hardened Lex’s cock even more.

“What’s going on, Clark? You’ve never shown any interest in anyone besides Lana before.” What was he doing?! Lex tried to remember why he was stopping Clark…damn, he was trying to do the right thing, that’s why. As he looked up at the beautiful face looking down on him, all flushed with desire, Lex was starting to rethink the doing good thing. It hadn’t really been working for him anyway.

“Never mind, Clark. I have more spots on me that need cleaning, not just that one.” Lex reached down and ran a light touch over the denim covering Clark’s crotch. “Are you up for the job?”

At Clark’s whine, Lex squeezed against the sizable bulge he could feel under his fingertips. “Well, Clark?”

“What…what do you want me to do, Lex?”

Lex smiled and lifted Clark’s hand to his mouth. He sucked in the thumb and got it thoroughly wet. Clark was panting when he was done, his other hand clenched into a fist by his side. “First, Clark, you need to clean the other side.”

Yes, to hell with being good. Bad boys had so much more fun, and they didn’t have to even think about changing the tire on any cars.


End file.
